No Choice
by Kashtien James
Summary: House finds Cuddy alone after a rough day. He has a few questions for her. *Oneshot*


**A/N: I own nothing, unfortunately. This is just a House/Cuddy oneshot. It's my first ever House fic, so I hope it's good. I may decide to write more of House later on, but for now, enjoy! And don't forget to review. **

He stood in the doorway of Cuddy's office, awaiting her recognition. Any sign that she knew of his presence, really. It took her a moment, and for that brief moment, House had the pleasure of watching her when no one else was around. Whether people realize it or not, their actions are always altered by their company. Cuddy pursed her lips, she tapped her pen, she furrowed her brows. Nothing unusual, but each gesture was less inconspicuous without an audience.

"I sense you hovering, House. And I heard your cane from down the hall." She said it without even the slightest of upwards glances.

_Shit!_ That meant his theory was wrong. She wasn't cautious with an audience, she was cautious with an audience of more than one - of more than _him_.

"What are you doing?" he asked after another silent moment had passed. He knew what she was doing already, but there was no harm is confirming. It was eight o'clock at night and Cuddy was still at the office. There were only a few things she could possibly be doing.

"You know what I'm doing."

House nodded. He wasn't about to argue. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room, then he dragged himself over to the chair across from his girlfriend who was deep into her work.

"I'm sorry," he admitted sincerely. It wasn't often that he apologized, and his meaningful apologies were even fewer and further apart. This time, he meant it.

For the first time, Cuddy lifted her eyes to analyze his words. When she saw that he wasn't just being his usual asshole self, she cocked an eyebrow to accompany her question, "For what?"

"It's my fault that man died today. I should have known. I could have prevented it." Jack Mercer had been thirty-three years old and a father of two. Usually, House didn't care. He could separate himself and it didn't matter. For some reason, this case had gotten to him on an emotional level.

"You can't save everyone, House. There's no way that you could have known."

"Yes. There was. It was right in front of our eyes." His voice was barely audible. A whisper in the silence. Cuddy didn't know what to say. He was the only person that could make her speechless repetitively. When House realized that she wasn't going to say anything, he continued, completely changing the subject at hand, "So you would wear a white dress?"

Cuddy had looked back down at her laptop, but at his words, her bright blue eyes shot up in surprise, "Excuse me?"

"When you get married. You're going to wear a white dress?"

"Yes . . . ?" It came out as a question, though she hadn't intended for it to be one.

"Would it be a big wedding? Small? Just family and friends or your entire Face Book friends list?"

This was weird. This was really weird. Why was House asking about the details of her future wedding? It wasn't like they were going to be married. House had expressed his views on marriage multiple times over the past years. Besides, he wasn't exactly marriage-material.

"Is something up? Have you been drinking, House? I've asked you before not to be drinking in the hospital." A frown took over her features. He had promised to cut back on the games.

His expression was definitely sober, and he didn't have that smirk he carried when he was dicking around. "Big or small? Just answer the question."

"I've always preferred smaller weddings. The big bash isn't my type. I hate it when I look around and realize that I only know every twentieth person."

House nodded. Small was good.

He didn't say anything, and it was making Cuddy nervous. Where was he going with this? "Okay, you're creeping me out. What's with the wedding talk? Questioning my guest list?"

Reaching forward suddenly, he closed her laptop. As soon as the clasp clicked closed, the computer would go into standby mode and she would have to wait to restart it and get her file up again. She didn't have time for games. What was he doing?

"House! What the hell? I have work to do and you know it. I have work to do because of you, and I don't need you sitting here causing me to be distracted!" She wasn't yelling, but in the silence of the building, it sounded a lot louder than what she had intended.

"Marry me, Cuddy."

She was in shock. Her eyes widened at his demand, but she busied herself with reopening the laptop and pretending to have troubles logging in. If she looked into those icy eyes, she knew she was gone for good.

House shut the laptop once again.

Cuddy looked up.

And everything was gone. Her mind was useless and her heart was now driving.

"You don't get to propose because you've had a tough day. You don't get to do this to me, because in a week from now, we're going to argue, and you're going to take this back, and everything will have been for nothing."

She was fighting her own emotions. At least, she was attempting to.

"If you want to do this seriously, then do it. Don't do it because you feel responsible for killing someone. Go buy a ring, get down on one knee, and ask me. None of this . . . this . . . bullshit."

House didn't look hurt. He didn't look offended. He hadn't expected her to jump up out of her chair and squeal "Yes!", so he wasn't disappointed. He would marry Cuddy.

One hand disappeared out of her view, but she knew that he was digging in his pocket. A second later, his hand emerged with a little black box. Oh God. He was for real. "Marry me, Cuddy. I would get down on one knee, but I might not be able to get back up, so don't make me ask again."

She slowly raised herself from the chair, and leaned over the desk. Grabbing the scruff of his collar, she tugged House toward her until their lips met.

A moment later, he broke away, a smile on his lips, "I'll take that as a yes?"

"Do I really have a choice?"


End file.
